One boy is about to learn that he has already passed such an event, and nothing will ever be quite the same…

“Hello, Mom?…” Sheila asked over the telephone.

“What is it, sweetheart?…” Elizabeth asked her daughter.

“You’re not going to believe this,” said Sheila, “but Coach Brenda has asked Brandon to join the cheer team!…”

“Are you kidding, Sheila?” asked her mother. “This isn’t one of Kelly’s silly pranks, is it?…”

“Oh no, Mom!” Sheila denied. “Kelly may’ve recommended Brandon to Coach Brenda, but she takes her cheerleading very seriously. The coach needs someone to take Abby Abernathy’s place. So this is no prank. Besides, we all discussed it over lunch today…”

“A high school having a boy on the cheerleading squad is certainly unusual…”

“Yes, it is, but it’s looking necessary. Coach Brenda asked him this morning in his counselor’s office, and I think he’s talked about it with Principal Lansing, too…”

“I hope he’ll ask your father and me for some advice…”

“I’m sure he will. And I need to talk to him about it, too,” continued Sheila. “By the way, could you get my old cheerleading uniform out of the closet? I’ll do the ironing, myself, but Brandon really needs to try it on…”

“Which one?…”

“Oh, that’s right!… Y’know, I think all my old uniforms are still together in the garment carrier,” mused Sheila. “Just get them all out. I may as well have him try everything on while we’re at it…”

“Alright, I’ll do that,” promised her mother. “But you and Brandon come straight home today. This is a lot to happen in one day and we need to discuss it together as a family, I think.”

Dr. MacDonald knocked on the threshold of Dr. Windham’s office door, who was working at her computer, recording notes about her day’s patients. “Teri, Libby wants to know if you can come over to our place for dinner tonight?” Nathan invited her. “Brandon had quite an interesting problem arise at school today and would like to sound you out on it.”

“Oh?” Teri responded. “What kind of problem?”

“I don’t really know the details,” said Dr. MacDonald. “Besides, Brandon should be the one to explain it to you, anyway. But I think it’s more of what you two talked about over the weekend.”

Dr. Windham swiveled around in her chair and smiled at her friend and colleague. “It has been a while since we’ve got together outside the hospital,” she remarked. “So what time’s dinner?”

“About six-thirty…”

“Alright, Nate. Tell Libby I’ll be there.”

“Okay! She’ll like that,” said Nathan. “I’ll tell her you’re coming.”

Brandon and Jenny walked along the pathway home. Jeff, Mark, Melinda, and Sheila followed a discreet distance behind them in a separate group. Brandon’s smartphone rang and interrupted his conversation with his girlfriend, but when he saw who the caller was, he answered it.

“I should take this call, Jenny,” he excused himself. “Hello, Mom!…”

“Are you on your way home, Brandon?…” his mother asked.

“Yes, Mom,” he affirmed. “I’m walking Jenny home first. Sheila’s right behind us with Melinda, Mark, and Jeff…”

“Who’s Melinda?…”

“She’s one of Sheila’s friends and Mark’s new girlfriend…”

“Mark has a girlfriend?” exclaimed Mrs. MacDonald. “I can hardly believe that! But then I still have a hard time believing you already found someone…”

Jenny smiled at her boyfriend as she deduced the subject of the telephone call. He grinned back at her. “Mom, Jenny’s mother has invited me to dinner at five-thirty Wednesday evening. Is that alright?…”

“Of course it is, so long as Jenny accepts an invitation from us…”

“She’s already promised she would, Mom,” Brandon reminded her. “But we do have to suggest a date and time before she can accept it…”

Jenny giggled. Also, their other friends had caught up with them.

“Well, I’m calling about dinner tonight, son,” his mother told him. “Our friend Teri, whom you know as Doctor Windham now, will be joining us. Sheila called and told me what Coach San-Giacomo asked you to do, and I do think you should talk with Teri about it, if that’s alright with you?…”

“Actually, I was hoping she’d take my call tonight,” admitted Brandon. “How did you get her to come to dinner, anyway?…”

“Remember, she’s been a friend of your dad’s and mine for a long time,” his mother reminded him. “We were college roommates and she was a classmate of your dad’s in college and in medical school…”

“Mom, I meant to ask you if she’s the one whom Sheila used to call ‘Miss Window’?…”

“Yes, honey, and you would call her ‘Aunt Teasie,’” his mother reminded him. “You couldn’t quite say ‘Theresa’ or ‘Teri’ so that’s what you called her. You didn’t remember her at all?…”

“Vaguely,” he said. “But if she and you and Dad are all friends, why hasn’t she been around for so long?…”

“Well, it’s a long story,” recalled his mother. “She had to go away to do her psychiatric residency. When she completed that there weren’t any vacancies in her specialty here. When one came open here at Saint Luke’s, we helped her get the position. She’s really been quite busy since joining the staff, though…”

The Harrigan family had finished eating their dinner, so Caitlin began to clear the table since it was her turn to clean up. But almost as soon as she had started, her mother stopped her.

“Caitlin, go do your homework now,” Cat told her youngest daughter.

“But it’s my turn tonight,” she reminded her mother. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sweetheart,” affirmed Cat. “Your sister will clean up for you tonight.”

Caitlin glanced over at her sister. “Mom, is Kelly in trouble?” Kelly stared back at her little sister.

“Caitlin, you don’t need to know that just now,” Cat told her. “But your father and I need to talk privately with Kelly about a few things.”

Caitlin looked over to her father. He just nodded. “Sooner or later all will be okay,” Brian tried to assure his little girl, “for you and for Kelly. Don’t worry about your sister, okay?”

Caitlin looked at Kelly again, but her older sister smiled back and nodded. “Caitlin, I expect Mom and Dad wanna talk to me about some things,” said Kelly. “I did both some good and some bad things, but some of it’s just about growing up, too.”

Kelly embraced her younger sister and kissed her gently on the cheek. “Okay, Caitie-Cat!” Kelly exclaimed, swatting her sister’s butt. “Go do your homework!” Despite the loud crack of the swat on Caitlin’s backside, she giggled and ran off to comply.

“Let’s adjourn to my study, then,” declared Brian. “It’s time to get this started.”

In his sister’s room, Brandon sat at Sheila’s vanity table, staring at himself in the mirror. Anxiously, he had donned one of the Jay-Vee crimson, royal blue, and white cheerleading uniforms that she’d worn the previous year. It actually fit him somewhat loosely, since she was slightly taller than Brandon and anything but flat-chested. Also, because her extra height was due to her shapely legs, the hemline of her skirt came about an inch (2.5 cm) or so lower on her brother. Nonetheless, he felt very much exposed wearing it. But so that Brandon wouldn’t feel quite as vulnerable, Sheila was wearing her pom-pom squad/dance team uniform. Besides, she enjoyed any excuse to wear the glittering, form-fitting costume.

“Now, let’s see what we can do with your hair,” said Sheila, kneeling behind her brother as she brushed his hair into bunches. “The two basic hairstyles for any cheerleader are pigtails and ponytails. When in doubt, you can, like, always get away with one of those. And you’ve grown your hair out just long enough for simple braids.” She continued to braid his hair and tied two pigtails off with white ribbons.

Brandon thought differently about braids than did his sister. Braiding was an exercise in topology for his mathematically oriented mind. That the purpose of Sheila braiding his hair was for him to appear cute and girlish was really lost on him.

The boy stared into the mirror to see a girl staring back at him. It had only been five days since ‘Brandi’ had shown up at school and won such praise—only four days after Brandon had been embarrassed to have shown his feminine aspect to the world. He was no less curious and excited than he’d been on Gender-Bender Day, but still he was just as anxious and disturbed—and embarrassed—as he’d been the following day.

“So, Brandi is back!” Sheila beamed at the figure reflecting her brother from the mirror. “The uniform is just a little too big, but it, like, suits you! You really belong in a cheer uniform!”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!” Brandon denied. “You told me you had your own selfish reasons for wanting me on the cheerleading team. So what’s up?”

Sheila led her brother to the bed and sat him down, holding both his hands. To the casual observer, they would appear to be two sisters just having a heart-to-heart talk. And indeed, they were about to engage in such a conversation.

“I think I wanna call you ‘Brandi’ now,” said Sheila. “Is that, like, okay with you?”

I guess I do look more like a Brandi than a Brandon now,” he conceded.

“Yes, you do,” his older sister assured him. “And I’ve always wanted a little sister and now I’m giving you advice. It’s almost like a dream come true.”

“So what words of wisdom do you have for me?” Brandon asked with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

“First, I promised to tell you, like, the selfish reasons why I want you do this,” Sheila reminded him. “To start with, I’ve always wanted a little sister to do things with and this is, like, as close as I’m gonna get.”

“Well, we already do things together.”

“Yes, but not like girl things,” his sister emphasized. “Now I have a chance for that, too.”

“Alright, Sis,” concurred Brandon. “I don’t regard that as selfish, though.”

“Well, you’re kind not to think so, but that’s not the only reason,” Sheila continued. “I want you to take over from Abby so they’ll quit pushing me to do it.

“What I told you and Jenny in your hospital room Friday evening is also quite true. I’m not very comfortable doing gymnastics and pyramids. Besides, I’m, like, happier with the pom-pom girls and on the dance line than on the cheer team.”

“I know, so that’s nothing new. What else do you need to tell me?”

“Just a couple more things,” said Sheila. “Next, I should remind you that cheerleading gets expensive. You’ll have to buy more than one uniform and pay for a lot of project materials out of your own pocket.”

“I did mention how you had felt about the frequent expenses to Doctor Lansing when I talked with her,” recounted Brandon. “But I would think the school should pay for the additional costs for approved activities.”

“Well, the cheer team does get some money from the school, but it’s not nearly enough to cover everything,” explained Sheila. “And you still have so many things going on. You gotta do baked sales and car-washes and other fund-raising projects. You can expect to spend a lot of your time with the cheer team outside school.”

“You were really busy with them,” he recalled.

“And that brings me back to the biggest problem you can have as a cheerleader,” she remarked, about to warn her brother. “Cheerleading takes over your social life. But since you’ve never had one before, it’s gonna be a new experience for you. And you’re gonna be expected to do things you might not want. Like, I got pressure to go out with guys I didn’t like. Cheerleaders are all expected to go on dates with athletes, especially football players. And I can’t be sure what that might mean for you.”

“Well, I’m already with Jenny and I hope to be going out with her soon,” he objected. “Besides, I’m not going with any guys.”

“Brandi, believe me when I say you don’t know what that pressure will be like,” warned Sheila. “That’s the main reason I like the dance team so much better. We don’t pressure each other like that.”

“So that put you off cheerleading, then?”

“Very much so!” Sheila confirmed. “But I wanted you to know. I still hope that it will be fun for you. I’m sure you can do the gymnastics that I couldn’t, but you need to pay attention to the other girls. Some will honestly be your friends, but cheerleading tends to attract divas and bitches. Look out for them!”

“I won’t be surprised,” concurred Brandon. “There’s gotta be a prima donna or two among any group of girls as large as the cheer team.”

“That’s certainly been my experience,” she confirmed for Brandon. “And they’re the ones who made the experience unpleasant for me.”

“Then how will they treat me?”

His sister thought for a moment before answering, “Prob’ly just like everyone else on the cheer team—really mean! I can’t say if they’ll push you harder ’cause you’re a boy, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.”

“So then whom do I watch out for?”

“Look out for Penney and Tillie,” warned Sheila, “and anyone else getting too friendly with ’em. They’re the co-captains this year and rumor has it that it’s gone to their heads. But don’t let ’em push you around. You’re too good for that.”

“I’m glad you think so,” conceded Brandon.

“I know I kid you a lot, but I do love you, Little Brother,” she professed, tightly hugging him.

Brian, Cat, and Kelly were all seated in his study around a low table, Mom and Dad on a sofa, the daughter in an armchair.

“You do know why we’re here, Kelly?” Brian asked his daughter.

“I do, Daddy,” she answered. “I had a lot happen over the weekend.”

“Yes, you did,” her father agreed. “Apparently you displayed both your best and worst behavior Friday evening.”

“What we need you to understand is that good behavior doesn’t always offset bad,” Kelly’s mother warned her. “Your father and I can’t let your underage drinking go unpunished. But you did confess it to me without my asking and you had already begun seeking medical intervention on your own. We are taking those facts into account as mitigating circumstances.”

“Still, you began drinking even before the beginning of the school year,” Brian reminded her. “Can you tell me why?”

“I was scared of starting high school,” confessed Kelly. “I’m so afraid of getting a low grade in a class. Like, getting a low score on even one test could ruin my future.

“And then, there’s a lot of trouble in the world that I can’t help. I mean, what can I do about any of it?”

“Honey, we do understand some of what’s going on here,” Cat assured her daughter. “We went through it with Maureen and then Connor. Now it’s your turn and Caitlin will begin going through it in two or three years. But your father and I are most able to help you because we have each gone through it ourselves.”

“You’ve become aware of injustice in the world,” noted Brian. “More than that, you’re sensitive to how it affects people. And it’s a good thing to know the pain that others feel. But we weren’t expecting you to become so sensitive so soon. We certainly don’t want you drinking to mask it, though.”

“You moved as fast as you could to try to protect Abby,” recalled her mother. “That was a completely selfless action. You made us proud even though I was frightened.”

“But why were you frightened, Mom?”

“Because you could’ve been hurt as badly as Abby was,” injected Brian. “That worries your mother.”

“Yes,” agreed Cat. “You often act impulsively, without thinking.”

“But I had to act. There wasn’t time to think it through,” Kelly defended herself. “I stand by my action. I know I did the right thing and I’d do it again. All I’d do differently would be to do it better. If I’d been faster, then I’d’ve gotten both Abby and myself out of the way in time for both of us to avoid injury.”

Kelly’s parents remained silent a moment, then her mother nodded. “Yes, honey, you did do the right thing. But even so, a mother can’t help but feel scared by it.”

“I’m sorry I frightened you,” Kelly apologized. “I didn’t mean that to happen.”

“I know, honey,” Cat assured her daughter. “That’s okay now.”

“Well, we need to get back to the main topic,” declared Brian. “Again, Kelly, your mother and I can’t let you get away with underage drinking. You’re very lucky to’ve been caught by Nate MacDonald at Saint Luke’s and not at school. There, you might’ve been suspended or even expelled.”

“But you do have mitigating factors in your favor,” her mother (and judge) continued. “First, when you were confronted by Doctor MacDonald, you immediately accepted his medical opinion and presented yourself for treatment. Next, you ’fessed up to it without me even asking. I think you expressed honest, heart-felt remorse. And I certainly understood when you explained to me how growing up was getting to you.”

“That’s right, sweetheart!” her father affirmed. “Again, remember that you’re not alone. Everyone has to go through changes growing up. Mistakes are a part of the process. How you handle a mistake and what you learn from it are very important.”

“Also, this is a first offense for you. So, we’ve taken all that into consideration,” Cat pointed out. “We want you to avoid doing this again. So, we’re giving you a punishment similar to what I might sentence another teenager in like circumstances—a fine, treatment, and community service. Your dad will assess your fine.”

“It’s maybe more like damages than a fine,” Kelly’s father explained. “Since you took one of my favorite single malts from the liquor cabinet, you will pay for its replacement. But you should know it was a more expensive Scotch that you took.”

“How much does it cost?” Kelly asked.

“When I got it, the price of the half-bottle was seventy-five dollars,” he told her.

“What?” the girl exclaimed.

“You should’ve picked a less costly liquor,” joked Brian. “But remember that you must replace it at whatever the current price. Its price will’ve gone up. And as a fine, I’m assessing treble damages—three times whatever that price is. So, that means you will make two donations of the same amount. One will be to the Church. It can be our parish, the diocese, the school, or any of the charities or other ministries associated with the Church, but you can’t count it for your regular offering. The other donation will be the same amount to where your mom’s arranged for you to do your community service.”

“When do I hafta pay it?”

“Before New Year’s Day.”

“Can you just take it from my allowance?”

“Well, I could do that with the restitution for the Scotch,” he allowed. “After all, you can’t buy it legally at the store for me yourself. But because I give you your allowance by direct deposit, it would really be less hassle for us both if you just pay me in cash or by check. You’ll have to do that for the donations, anyway. Besides, your mother and I will need to see proof of payment by a receipt, a bank statement, or a copy of a cancelled check.

“Why so formal?” Kelly wondered.

“This is a punishment,” Brian reminded his daughter. “We’ll need to monitor your compliance. And—believe it or not—the day may come when you’ll want a momento of it.”

Kelly mused a moment about what her father had meant. “Why would I, like, keep a souvenir of punishment?”

“For the same reason you’d keep a souvenir of an injury,” stated her mother. “You showed me the Lladró that Rhonda gave you. How many of your friends have already signed your cast? You and your friends all gave Brandon that doll. He’ll remember. Those souvenirs remind us not only of the pain, but also of the recovery and those who supported us through it.”

“Perhaps some little momento might remind you of how you made things right and how your character grew as a result,” her father continued. “Your mother and I have faith in you that you’ll complete your punishment and be better for it.”

“So I should explain what else you have to do,” said her mother. “I usually have sentenced offenders to treatment when substance abuse is involved in what they’ve done in addition to other sanctions. This is especially so with first-time offenders. Yet you’ve already taken the initiative to seek treatment yourself, so your dad and I simply ask you to follow up with that and we’ll take you at your word that you’re doing so. How do you feel about that?”

“I think I drank because, like, I don’t really know how to deal with what I’m going through,” confessed their daughter. “I’d rather have a more effective way to handle it, anyway.”

“Now, we get to what may be the most important part of your punishment,” her mother announced. “I’ve arranged for you to serve eighty hours of community service at Union Charities Mission. You will meet with the director there and agree on a schedule for whatever duties she assigns you. This will, of course, cut into your personal time after school or during weekends, but you must complete the eighty hours by December thirty-first.”

The girl thought about her pre-existing commitments. They were demanding enough. How would she ever squeeze eighty hours of community service into her already overbooked schedule? And the holiday season would be coming up, too. This could easily derail many of her plans.

“Môm, how am I going to manage that with all my other commitments?” Kelly complained. “And you know, like, I gotta keep my grades up.”

“You’ll just have to give community service first priority in your schedule,” her mother told her. “This isn’t a suggestion, Kelly—it’s a requirement.”

“I know eighty hours may sound like a lot right now,” her father observed. “But over ten weeks, it’s only eight hours a week. You should be able to arrange for most of that on weekends, with maybe a couple of hours on a less busy weeknight. Will your injury free up any time from cheerleading?”

“No. Not really,” answered Kelly. “Although I can’t do, like, any gymnastics right now, I can still yell, sing, and dance, so I’m still required to be at our games and support the team. Besides, Coach Brenda already has me working on administrative things. And remember cheerleading is not an extracurricular activity for us. It counts as our physical education course and we get grades for it. We can’t, like, just not show up for a game or other activity unless we clear it with Coach Brenda ahead of time. She can cut our grades for no-shows.”

“I knew it counted for your physical education credit,” said Cat, “but I didn’t realize that you actually get graded for it. I thought you just received a pass or fail mark.”

“Oh yeah, Mom! The regular ‘Pee-Ee’ courses are all just ‘pass/fail,’ but Cheerleading One is graded ‘Ay’ through ‘Eff.’ We even have homework assignments and a written exam every term.”

“I didn’t know that,” admitted her mother.

“What’s on your written exams?” Brian inquired.

“Our first exam covered a variety of topics, like the rules of football, especially how playoffs are organized, health and safety in the gym, and first-aid for training injuries,” enumerated Kelly. “We had questions about the history of cheerleading and school traditions. Cheerleading has its own lingo we had questions about that, too. And Coach Brenda even gave us a creative writing question where we had to compose an original cheer.”

“That’s not how it was when I was a cheerleader,” said her mother, reminiscing somewhat. “It was simply an extracurricular activity that you tried-out for and you only stayed in so long as you kept your grades up.”

“Welcome to the twenty-first century, Mom!” Kelly announced. “You still gotta have the grades to get in, though. And Coach Brenda can, like, cut our grades for cheerleading if they drop in our other classes. And if you get kicked out of cheerleading, you flunk the class.”

“Do you have a textbook for your cheerleading course?” her father asked.

“We have two. One’s a book about physical fitness, health, and safety, like, for gymnasts. The other’s about the practice, history, and culture of cheerleading.”

“I get it, Kelly,” her mother assured her. “You can’t really let go of your cheerleading responsibilities any more than your other classes.”

“No, I can’t,” the girl agreed. “And I shouldn’t.”

“Look,” continued Cat. “I want you to put real effort into doing your community service getting it done by the end of the year. It’s important for you, maybe more than you can guess right now.”

“Môm, all I can promise is to do the best I can.”

“And that’s all we ask of you,” Kelly’s mother reminded her.

Sheila guarded the way behind her brother as he descended the stairs reluctantly. She had convinced him to appear at dinner dressed in a cheerleading uniform, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he might turn suddenly and dash back up the stairs. So, Brandon surprised her when he stepped onto the landing and continued towards the dining room, although he went perhaps more with resignation than with resolve.

“Good evening, everyone!” Sheila cheerfully addressed their parents and Teri Windham as they entered the dining room. “Doctor, please meet Brandi, my younger sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Brandi,” Dr. Windham answered the introduction, offering her hand. When the boy accepted it, she could feel her young patient trembling, so she thought to assure him. “You’re a strikingly cute young lady!”

“Um—th-thank you, Doctor—I think,” the boy stuttered slightly. “Do I really look alright?”

“Just like another cheerleader,” she affirmed. “If I didn’t know who you already were, I’d think you were any other girl. By the way, when I’m here, ‘Doctor’ is way too formal.”

“Should we go back to Aunt Teasie or Auntie Window?” Brandon asked in jest. Both Theresa and Sheila giggled at the suggestion.

“No,” said Dr. Windham, “but ‘Aunt Teri’ or even just ‘Teri’ would be fine.”

“So, did Mom or Dad tell you what they asked me to do at school?”

“No,” answered Teri. “We all agreed I should wait for you to tell me, but from how you’re dressed, I’m guessing they want you to be a cheerleader?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he confirmed. “The cheerleading coach, Miss San-Giacomo, asked me to substitute for the girl who was hurt in the Homecoming game Friday night.”

“But why did she ask you instead of another girl?” Dr. Windham asked.

“Kelly told her that I was good at gymnastics and, well, she said they couldn’t find any girls who were both qualified and available,” explained Brandon. “Apparently, all of the more athletic girls were already committed to whatever else.”

“So you agreed to take the injured girl’s place?”

“Not yet, but I am leaning that way.”

“I’ve, like, tried to encourage Brandi to do it,” said Sheila joining the dialogue. “That’s why I had him try my old cheer uniforms on.”

“But it’s also to stop them from pressuring you to rejoin the cheerleaders,” objected Brandon to his sister. “That’s what you were telling me, anyway.”

“That’s true,” admitted Sheila. “But I do prefer to stay on the dance team. They’re easier to get along with, and I look prettier in this, don’t you think?” She twirled around quickly to show off her uniform. “Besides, Brandon is too cute as Brandi, like, not to be a cheerleader.”

“I’ll grant you that,” declared their mother. “Maybe I should have dressed Brandon as a girl from birth?”

“Môm!” Brandon sang out in objection as Sheila giggled and the adults laughed. “You too, Dad? But that’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, son,” his father reminded him. “I have to see results of life’s unfairness every day and very often fix them. Let me ask you, was it fair that your classmate, Abby, was so severely injured at the game? ”

“Of course not!”

“But at least you’ve been asked if you want to do this,” Nathan explained. “No one’s requiring you to fill in for Abby, although you’ve impressed someone with your skills well enough that they thought to ask you.”

“Kelly!” Brandon protested. “It was Kelly who told Miss San-Giacomo about taking gymnastics with me.”

“And I can understand why,” his father defended the girl. “You were very good at it and telling her coach about you makes sense, even though you’re a boy.”

“Pardon me for interrupting,” announced Elizabeth, “but let’s all sit down at the table and continue this discussion over dinner. You girls can come with me and help bring out the soup and salad.” When Theresa began to move toward the kitchen, Elizabeth held a hand up. “No, Teri! You’re our guest. I meant Sheila and Brandi.”

Brandon felt strange to have been included with his sister as one of “You girls” by their mother. Stranger still, everyone else seemed accepting of him in that role, if not outright encouraging. Couldn’t someone object to him dressing as a girl? But then, how would he feel if anyone did?

“Môm, I’m sorry!” Billy whined. “I didn’t mean to get caught. Do you think I wanna dress like this until next semester? I mean, if I hadn’t worn it today Principal Lansing would never’ve thought to use it for a punishment.”

“Be thankful she did,” said Patricia. “Otherwise she may’ve simply expelled you. That’s why I agreed to it for you.”

“And so I’m screwed now,” he kept on whinging. “Thanks again, Mom!”

“Billie, if dressing like a girl for a few weeks is the worst that ever happens to you, you’ll lead very much the charmed life!”

“But this is so embarrassing,” pled Billy, fighting back tears. “How’m I gonna get through it?”

Patricia stretched an arm around her son and drew him closer, squeezing his shoulder in assurance and smiling, “You’ll get through it one day at a time!” With that she kissed him on the cheek.

“Girls, would you go bring the desserts, please?” Libby asked. The adults at the table all noticed that “Brandi” immediately got up together with his sister in response. The two deftly cleared the empty dishes of the entrée from the table and quickly took them away to the kitchen.

“Libby, Teri, please excuse me while I get something from my study,” Nathan said as he rose from the table.

“Are you getting The Yearbook?” Libby asked.

“Yes,” he affirmed. “Rethinking Teri’s advice and yours, I now agree that showing Brandon what I did in high school may ease his anxiety some.”

Teri turned to smile at Libby and they exchanged a “high-five.” At that moment, Sheila re-entered carrying a tray with small plates of apple pie and Brandon, a container of vanilla ice cream and an ice cream dipper. Sheila distributed the apple pie to each place at the table while Brandon followed her, scooping a dollop or two of ice cream onto each. He was still scooping ice cream when his sister asked, “Coffee for everyone?”

“Unless you or Brandi want something else,” replied Elizabeth. “And don’t forget to bring the cream and sugar.” As Sheila and Brandon returned to the kitchen once again for coffee, Nathan came back to the table with one of his high-school annuals. “So does that one have the photos of ‘Natalie’ as ‘Queen of the Ball’?” Libby asked.

“Oh yeah!” Nathan affirmed. “And even more important, the ones of me as as a Powder-Puff cheerleader. But please, try not to get anything sticky on the pages!”

“What pages?” Sheila asked bringing in a tray of cups and saucers with a carafe of freshly brewed coffee, Brandon following behind carrying a caddy set with a matching sugarbowl and creamer. Sheila reminded everyone, “We’re not supposed to bring books to the dinner table!”

“There’s a special reason for it tonight, Sheila,” her mother explained. “It’s one of the reasons why Teri is here tonight and it also relates to your brother’s unusual dilemma.”

“You mean about me becoming a cheerleader?” Brandon asked.

“Yes, son,” answered their father, opening The Yearbook to a specific page. “I haven’t shown you this until now because I didn’t want you to feel any pressure from me to sway your decision either way. But your mom and Teri both raised logical arguments that knowing I did something similar might relieve some of the stress you’re feeling.”

“You were a cheerleader, too?” Brandon asked, curious and incredulous, as well as surprised. “You wore a uniform like this?”

“Yes, I did,” he affirmed to his son, handing Brandon the open yearbook. “Our school had an annual Powder-Puff Football Tournament. I was one of the cheerleaders every year—”

“And he was so cute!” Elizabeth interrupted. And one year he was ‘Queen of the Ball.’ Your father looked quite pretty in a formal gown!” Teri giggled along with her, while Nathan quietly smiled at his wife.

The boy noticed a photograph of a cheerleader in a traditional pose, kneeling on one knee. The caption read Nathan “Natalie” MacDonald. “He looks almost like you, Sis!” Brandon said, pointing it out to Sheila.

“Oh—my—gosh!” she exclaimed. “Daddy, you really do look like me in the picture—and cute in pigtails!” Then she looked up to see her father blushing bright pink. But next, she saw her brother’s face show yet a deeper shade of the same color as he reached behind his head to touch his own pigtails, perhaps just feeling whether they were still there, or maybe trying to hide them.

“Seriously though, Brandon,” his father resumed speaking, “I don’t want you to feel that you have to do this because I did something like it, but at the same time, I do want you to know that I did, and that I had a good time doing it. Your mom, her sister, and their mother enjoyed getting me girled up even more.”

“You mean Aunt Rebecca?” Sheila asked.

“Yes,” replied Libby. “And Becky’s cheerleading uniform fit your father perfectly, Brandon. Like you, he really hadn’t yet grown into his full adult physique then. That’s why we’re not too worried about yours—not right now, anyway. And you still have a chance to find out how much fun being a girl is.”

“Dad, how did you feel about it?” Brandon probed further.

“I wasn’t too happy about doing it my freshman year, but your mom worked really hard to keep me from freaking out,” his father recalled. “She never laughed at me, but with me after she got me laughing at myself. That’s still the most important lesson that I’ve learned from your mom, because I couldn’t’ve learned it without her, and from it, so many other life lessons followed much more easily than they otherwise would have.”

“Sounds like it was really important,” observed Brandon.

“It was,” conceded his father. “And since I grew into manhood, I kinda miss it. If the heels fit, wear ’em—at least while you can!”

That revelation from Dad surprised Brandon, who’d always thought of his father as the guy’s role model. And he still was. Nothing about Dad had ever seemed in any way unmasculine. Nothing! Yet he’d been a Powder-Puff cheerleader and enjoyed it.

Continuing to turn pages in The Yearbook, Brandon and Sheila came to photograph of Mom and Dad, with her in a tuxedo and him wearing a formal gown, being crowned King and Queen of the Powder-Puff Ball—or perhaps Queen and Queen? Even in the tuxedo, their mother still appeared to be all woman. “Sis, how do girls do that?” Brandon asked. “Mom’s doing it just like Debbi Snyder did wearing my suit?”

“Doing what?” Sheila asked her brother to clarify.

“Making herself look even girlier in guys’ clothes,” he said. “I don’t understand how?”

“Brandon—Brandi, it’s actually quite simple,” explained Teri. “As we grow up, girls learn, directly and indirectly, to believe that their well-being will depend mostly on their ability to attract desirable mates. Thus dressing and grooming take on the the importance of survival skills to most girls on the cusp of womanhood. So a girl learns to look her best in any circumstance, in whatever clothes she’s wearing. Now that’s an oversimplification, but it’s still the essence of what’s going on, and the best answer I have for your question.”

“We just like to look as pretty as we can, Brandi,” said Sheila. “So we do!”

In his mind, Brandon weighed Dr. Windham’s longer, more intellectual explanation against his sister’s shorter, almost flippant response. The doctor had told him why, while Sheila had concisely affirmed that it was so. And Brandon appreciated that if he did agree to do this, his sister would help him along. Doing it might be worth the hassle and the risk just because it looked to improve how he got along with Sheila. Could being a cheerleader and interacting as a girl even make him smarter somehow?

“Doctor—I mean, Aunt Theresa, what do you think about me being a cheerleader?” Brandon asked her. “You did say it would be alright for me to crossdress.”

“Yes, I did,” confirmed Dr. Windham. “But I also recall telling you to do it at home, where you can explore your feminine side safely around your family. I’m concerned that going to school as a girl could have negative effects for you. You could attract ridicule and the attention of bullies.”

“I know, but I’m not worried about that,” he answered. Then he explained, “So far, my friends seem to be cool with me cheerleading. Sheila and Jenny are certain to support me and then there’s this group of girls I told you about who were wanting to make me into a girl, anyway. I’m sure they’ll help me out, too.”

“But how will you handle bullies?” Elizabeth asked her son. “Teri’s right about that.”

“Well, when we talked about it today,” related Brandon, “Doctor Lansing said dealing with bullies is her job. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

“Who’s Doctor Lansing?” Theresa inquired.

“She’s our school principal,” said Sheila. “So she’d make the final decision.”

“But she promised to back up whatever I decide,” explained Brandon. “So did Doctor van de Meer.”

“And Doctor van de Meer is…?” Teri asked.

“My guidance counselor,” replied Brandon. “She, Miss San-Giacomo, and Kelly discussed it with me in her office this morning. And Miss San-Giacomo explained that if I don’t do it, she and all the other cheerleaders would have to work especially hard to develop new choreography and to rework their pyramids. She said teaching me to take over from Abby would be easier and faster.”

Dr. Windham had yet another question. “You said you could take care of yourself, Brandon. How?”

“Not only did Mom and Dad send me to gymnastics classes,” recounted Brandon, “but also had me take martial arts training. I’ve had both t’ai-chi ch’üan and aikido—and some just plain-old street-fighting, too!”

“And Masters Huang and Hideki both emphasized conflict resolution and avoidance strategies as the basis of self-defense,” recounted Nathan. “He’s able not only to fight, but he’s also able not to fight.”

“After all, fighting is not very ladylike!” Brandon quipped with a giggle that his sister joined.

“Brandi, you can be such a girl!” Sheila teased her brother.

Kelly had left her father’s study, so Brian glanced at his wife who read in his face a request for an explanation.

“So you want to know why I arranged for her community service at Union Charities Mission?” Cat asked, just to clarify.

“Yeah,” her husband answered. “But is it that obvious?”

“It follows both logically from our discussion and emotionally from the look on your face.”

“So why, then?”

“Three reasons,” she said, then enumerated: “First, Sylvia Brennan, the Director of Union Charities Mission, called my office looking for anyone needing to perform community service.

“Next, most of the clientele there are folks in recovery from alcohol or drugs. They’re mostly following twelve-step programs. I think it would be instructive for Kelly to see just what alcohol and drug abuse can do to people. But I also want her to see how people can bounce back from adversity.

“Then, Kelly told me she feels helpless about so much of what goes on in the world,” continued Cat. “Well, if I know Kelly, she’ll discover that she can do something about her little corner of it. That’s certainly one of the reasons she cited for drinking, although she did confess to other motivations.”

“I have to admit that your specific arrangement for Kelly’s community service is well-considered,” Brian approved. “But will she be safe in that environment?”

“They’ve had girls Kelly’s age there before both as volunteers and working community service,” explained Cat. “And sadly, they even have clientele her age. I hope Kelly will appreciate just how good her life is.”

“You’re right,” he concurred with his wife. “That is sad.”

“Honey, now I have more news, but it’s about me this time,” she said.

“Oh gosh!” Brian exclaimed. “Are you pregnant again?”

She giggled calmly. “No, but if you’d like us to try, I’m up for it tonight!”

“Not just yet, sweetheart,” he declined. “First, what’s your news, since I guessed wrong.”

“Today I received a call from an attorney Ethan MacAlistair of the Office of the Federal Judiciary in Washington,” she told Brian. “The President has asked him to vet me for the Ninth Circuit Federal Court of Appeals.”

“Wow, Cat! That’s great!” Brian praised his wife’s good professional fortune. Then he noticed that she didn’t look as happy as he would expect. So he probed, “But is that what you want?”

“I really don’t know, Brian,” she said, almost crying. “I’d love to sit on that court, but the timing couldn’t be worse.”

Reclining on his bed and still wearing the crimson and royal blue cheerleading uniform, Brandon stretched out and demurely crossed his nylon-clad legs as he turned to the next page in Fr. Jim’s thesis on ecclesiastical dress. Just as he had done on Gender-Bender Day the week before, Brandon decided to remain en femme all evening. After all, if he were to accept Miss San-Giacomo’s invitation to join the cheerleading team, he’d need to get accustomed to wearing the uniform and perhaps other items of girl’s apparel. He was safe enough wearing it at home, but at school?

The idea bothered him. He’d been happy enough dressing up for Gender-Bender Day the week before, but afterwards, he’d been upset not only by others’ reactions to it, but by his own as well. Could he really go through with this? Brandon didn’t have to. The only promise that he’d made was to consider it. The decision, after all, still would be his own.

Brandon’s smartphone rang and his buddy Jeff’s photograph appeared on the screen. He sat up on the bed as he answered the call.

“Hey there, Jeff!…”

“Hey, Brandon! What-cha doin’?…”

“Reading,…” he answered.

“Got a moment?…”

“Sure! What’s up?…”

“Brandon, please, don’t do it!” Jeff pled.

“Don’t do what?…” Brandon asked his friend to clarify.

“Don’t join the cheerleaders!…”

“Why?…”

“ ’Cause it’ll look bad,…” maintained Jeff.

“Look bad?” Brandon mused. “How?…”

“If you start coming to school in drag two or three days a week, everyone’s gonna start thinkin’ you’re gay,” explained Jeff. “And since you’re always with me and Mark, they’ll start thinkin’ we’re gay, too…”

“But we’re not gay,” objected Brandon. “Most everyone knows Jenny and I are a couple and so are Mark and Melinda…”

“But I’m not datin’ anyone yet,” Jeff complained. “Besides, rumors could still be spreadin’ even if I was. All they gotta do is say we’re. It won’t matter to bullies if we really are or not…”

“Look, Jeff,” argued Brandon. “Just because I’d be wearing a cheer uniform once or twice a week wouldn’t change who I am or my sexual orientation…”

“Maybe not, but how would I know or not if you’re doing it ’cause you are gay?…”

“What?” Brandon asked, quite surprised—and disappointed—by his friend. He paused a moment before continuing, “I can’t believe you said that!…”

“Well, you say you’re not gay, but how can I believe you?…”

“Jeff, I don’t wanna talk to you anymore tonight,…”

“I’m sorry, Brandon! I didn’t mean—…”

“Maybe not ever!…” added Brandon as he ended the call. He placed his smartphone beside him on the bed, screen face down, then drew his knees up to his chest and caressed them. He closed his eyes and the tears began to flow as he felt the impact of his conversation with Jeff.

Brandon, Jeff, and Mark had been best friends for a decade, maybe longer, ever since they were all toddlers. They couldn’t remember even when or how they had first come to know one another, but just that Mark had moved into the house on the opposite side of Brandon’s from Jeff’s. They all seemed always to have been friends and always in each other’s lives. But now Brandon felt that their sense of camaraderie was broken, perhaps forever.

The smartphone rang again with Jeff’s ringtone, but Brandon decided not to answer it. He was quite angry at Jeff. How could Jeff think that he were gay? But was he right? Would others think him gay if he attended school in girls’ attire two or three days a week?

These questions bothered Brandon now. He really hadn’t thought too much about Miss San-Giacomo’s proposal from that viewpoint. Yet following his success dressing up for Gender-Bender Day, he’d been preoccupied with the possible fallout of such perceptions by his peers.

He still hadn’t decided what answer he would give the cheerleading coach the next morning. He had received advice from his friends and family, from his psychiatrist, and from his guidance counselor, and the school principal as well. But what he’d received from Jeff was not so much advice as a plea for him not to do it.

Brandon’s smartphone began ringing with Jeff’s ringtone yet again, but he still ignored it. But this time, after it stopped, he turned it off, then went over to his desk and plugged it into its recharger. Feeling tired and more than a little frustrated, he decided to get himself ready for bed, although it were somewhat early. Still, he was too distracted by the decision he had to make to continue reading and too upset by Jeff’s call to do much of anything else.

After he’d taken off his sister’s cheer uniform, he opened the drawer of his dresser for a clean set of pyjamas. He noticed the babydoll set with matching panty that he’d slept in for Gender-Bender Day. Maybe wearing it to bed would help him sleep on his problem? How absurd! That would be irrational, he thought. Yet he stripped off his pantyhose, bra, and panty and put on the babydoll. Then Brandon opened the closet to peek at himself in the mirror on the back of the door. A very cute girl, her hair still coiffed in pigtails, blushed a demure grin back to him.

Then the truth hit him quite hard.

He liked the girl in the mirror. Somehow he felt—he knew—that Brandi was an essential and integral aspect of himself. He enjoyed being her.

Crossdressing excited him and he now knew that he must express his feminine nature as well as his masculinity. He had reckoned on it after talking with Dr. Windham over the weekend and she help him to confirm it at dinner, even though she had, at first, suggested that he just do it at home. But now, it transcended reason; he felt what he already knew.

Still, Brandon had to settle one question before morning: could he risk going to school crossdressed two or three times a week?